Diplomatic Tension
by Jane Krahe
Summary: An old friend of Peter's brings his pack to visit and Derek gets Scott and his friends to play happy-pack-families with him to keep up appearances. Also Derek is an idiot and no one tells Stiles anything.


Stiles paced in the kitchen, wringing his hands. He didn't want to do this. He couldn't do this. He flinched as a gruff voice called his name from another room. Crap. He had to do this.

Stupid werewolves and their stupid noses. A month before, Peter had come to Derek saying that an old friend of his, an Alpha with his own moderately-sized pack, wanted to bring his mate and a couple of his betas to visit. All signs pointed to it being a friendly visit, maybe even a way to establish some allies, but Derek had warned them that it was also just as likely to be a power play. Unfortunately, Derek's pack wasn't as big on the unity as it should have been, and it was somewhat lacking in numbers. As Peter put it, "Three disturbed teenagers and an incompetent Alpha do not a pack make."

So Derek had sucked it up and asked for help. He needed Scott, Stiles, Allison, Jackson, and Lydia to pretend to be in his pack. Not that they weren't allies; Scott and Derek didn't get along but they could work together when they needed to. But they weren't a pack, not the way they needed to be.

They only had about two weeks to prepare once Derek had gotten over himself and asked for help. They all but moved in to the Hale house, which was almost completely rebuilt. Stiles could tell Derek wasn't fully comfortable staying there, but he didn't seem very comfortable in his loft either. Derek just wasn't comfortable anywhere.

Peter had told them, with a glint in his eye, that the hardest thing to fake would be the scent. They needed to smell like a pack. So they slept in one room together, tangled up and sprawled across two mattresses that had been pushed together.

All but Derek. Peter said the Alpha would have his own room, but his Betas would take turns sharing. Meaning each of them had to take a turn sleeping in Derek's bed.

Tonight was Stiles' night.

It wasn't a big deal, really. That's what he'd told himself. Hell, if Scott could do it, so could he, right? In fact, Scott had done it _twice_ – but only because he'd refused to allow Allison to sleep in Derek's bed by herself. But Scott had done it and survived; so had Jackson, and Jackson could barely share a bed with Lydia. Stiles could totally do this.

"Stiles!" He jumped as his name was called again. It was getting late and crap, he needed to just get over it already.

"Y-yeah," he stuttered back. "On my way." Stiles rubbed his hands on his pajama pants then headed up the stairs to Derek's room. Stiles wasn't sure if it was the room Derek had slept in before the fire; when he'd rebuilt the house, he hadn't decorated the room. It was just bare walls, grey carpet, and a huge bed covered in a tangle of blankets and pillows. Stiles paused in the doorway. Derek was in the center of the bed, shirtless and looking seriously annoyed. Stiles bit his lip. "So… which side is your side?" he asked lamely. Derek just huffed and rolled over, turning his back to Stiles.

Right. Stiles closed the door behind him and made his way to the bed. It wasn't even a _bed_ really, just a mattress on the floor. He sank to his knees onto it then slid under the covers, shivering a little. Derek turned back over onto his back and looked at Stiles. "Just go to sleep," he said, voice low.

"Right. Yeah. Sleep." Stiles swallowed and snuggled down into the comforters. They _did_ smell like Derek, that strange, clean, spicy scent he had. Stiles had a feeling it wasn't cologne or aftershave, that it was just the way Derek naturally smelled. He pressed his nose to the pillow and closed his eyes. He was drifting off a few minutes later when Derek shifted, and he flinched.

Derek sighed roughly. "What is your problem?" he ground out, keeping his voice quiet. "I'm not gonna hurt you." He sounded a little put out by the idea that Stiles might be thinking that.

Stiles had no idea what his problem was. It was stupid; sharing a bed with Derek shouldn't have been a problem at all. But it was, it made him twitchy and nervous, made his skin shiver with goosebumps, made his heart quicken. And he had no idea why. "Sorry," he mumbled and closed his eyes again, willing himself to relax.

When the big, callused hand pressed against his stomach, he tensed, but managed not to flinch. Derek gently eased him back until Stiles was pressed against his chest, Derek's heartbeat thudding against his back. He let out a slow breath and told himself it was fine; he was fine. But there was no way he was getting to sleep with that firm, solid mass of muscle behind him.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

He woke with a start several hours later. Dawn light was filtering through the curtains and he was still pressed against Derek. Derek was giving off heat like a radiator and Stiles was sweaty and shivery. He gently eased himself out of Derek's grasp and stood, looking down at him.

Derek looked a lot younger in his sleep. Or rather, he looked his age. His hair was sticking up at odd angles and there was a crease on his cheek from the pillowcase. Stiles' mouth twitched.

He wasn't supposed to take a shower yet, supposed to let the scent of Derek attach to him or something like that, he hadn't really been listening. So he headed downstairs and started up the coffee maker. Isaac was already up. He came up behind Stiles and slid his arm around Stiles' shoulders. It was taking some getting used to, all this touching. Peter said that packs were supposed to be affectionate with each other and that it would be expected of them. Didn't make it any less weird.

"Morning," Isaac said with a yawn.

"Morning," Stiles replied. Then shivered as Isaac nosed at his neck.

"Mmm… you smell good," he muttered, still clearly half asleep.

"Well, that's the goal," Stiles said, voice high and cracked. He cleared his throat. "Want some coffee?"

"Definitely." Isaac took the cup out of Stiles' hand and walked away with it.

"Hey!" Stiles called half-heartedly, but Isaac was already gone, probably slinking back to share his pilfered coffee with Erica and Boyd. Stiles frowned and grumbled, and set about making another cup-

-which he then spilled all over the counter when another nose pressed itself to the back of his neck. Stiles gave a totally manly, not-high-pitched-at-all yelp and turned, ready to smack Scott or Erica. But of course, fuck his life, it was Peter, smiling at him in that super-creepy way of his. Stiles took a step back, pressing himself against the counter that was now dripping with coffee. "Jesus, dude, wear a bell or something," he snapped, voice shaking slightly. He rubbed at the back of his neck, at the spot where Peter's nose had touched him.

Peter smirked. "Just checking to make sure your delicate sensibilities didn't keep you from doing your part."

Stiles snorted. "You can smell me from down the block; you don't have to get that close."

"Oh, but… we're supposed to be getting close, aren't we?" Peter put a hand on either side of the counter and _leaned_ in.

"Peter," came Derek's voice out of nowhere. Stiles craned around and saw him standing in the doorway, looking like he'd just rolled out of bed. "Get. Off. Him."

Peter rolled his eyes but he eased back, letting Stiles skip away from him and towards Derek. Clearly, he wasn't meant to have coffee this morning.

Peter turned and folded his arms. "Get dressed, nephew of mine," he said. "Landon and his pack will be here in less than an hour."

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Stiles thought it was kind of dumb, but they were all lined up outside when two black SUVs came pulling up. A man and woman, both in their thirties, climbed gracefully out of the first one. Three younger, rowdy looking betas came tumbling out of the second one - all guys.

They were all so pretty, just like every other stupid werewolf Stiles knew, and he curled in on himself a little, feeling like the ugly step-sister.

"Landon," Peter said warmly, and it almost sounded genuine. "It's good to see you."

The man took Peter's hand and shook it firmly. "You too, old friend." His eyes went to Derek. "And this must be the Alpha." Stiles rolled his eyes. All this pomp and ceremony – Derek didn't act like this. He didn't pretend he couldn't smell exactly who and what you were from a mile away. But Derek shook the man's hand as well.

Landon's mate was a stunning woman with deep copper skin and long black hair. Her eyes were an inky black and completely inscrutable. A small smile played about her wide mouth, but she said nothing, only nodding when she was introduced to the group as Lilah.

Landon went down the line of them as Derek introduced them all, nodding to the men and – _kissing the girls' hands_, ugh. Stiles forced himself not to say something snarky.

"This is Stiles," he heard Derek saying, and he snapped his eyes front, paying attention.

"Another human," Landon murmured. His eyes were blue, his hair white-blonde and cropped short, parted deep on one side. "You have quite a few humans in your pack," he continued, addressing Derek. "It's an… interesting choice. Humans are not known for their loyalty."

Stiles glared at the man involuntarily. And of course, his mouth ran away with him. "There's a difference between choosing to be loyal and following around the first hand to feed you scraps."

Landon _stared_ at Stiles for a long moment and oh god, he could feel Derek's eyes on him too, he'd screwed it up, he knew it –

But then Landon laughed, and it brightened up his cold blue eyes. "Well said," he agreed. "Stiles, was it?" He very subtly scented the air and hey, Scott could use a few lessons on subtlety from this guy, then glanced at Derek. "I can see why he's your favorite."

Stiles opened his mouth to protest because _what_? But he caught Derek's eye, and he was very clearly trying to tell him to shut the hell up. So he closed his mouth again and just smiled awkwardly.

Landon moved on and Stiles relaxed a little. He caught Derek's eye and Derek was… watching him intensely, a strange look on his face. Stiles frowned a little at him but shook it off. Now was not the time to try and decipher Derek freaking Hale.

"These are my betas," Landon was saying, gesturing to the three young men who stood behind him. "Alec, Jonah, and Marcus." All three nodded and Stiles couldn't figure out which one was which. But apparently that didn't matter because oh, they were moving back into the house now.

A familiar arm draped itself over Stiles' shoulders as he climbed the stairs. "What do you think?" Scott murmured.

There really was no hiding things now; too many werewolf ears. So Stiles considered carefully before replying quietly, "I'm reserving judgment until further evidence presents itself." He felt like that was the safe thing to say; it was also true.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

The thing was, Landon and his pack were _polite_ guests. Landon and Peter seemed to know each other pretty well, and actually made _jokes_. Granted, they were dryer than the Sahara, but they were still _jokes_. Stiles stuck close to Scott that first afternoon. It was a lot easier to give off that ease of companionship when the wolf he was hanging off of was Scott.

Eventually though, even that started to feel claustrophobic. Stiles retreated to the kitchen to work on the big meal they had planned for that evening. He was slicing tomatoes when Derek came in, hands clenched into fists. He watched as the alpha took a deep breath, and he could see it as the muscles in Derek's body relaxed. He glanced up and caught Stiles' eye. Stiles nodded and said, "Having fun?"

Derek gave him a look and moved closer, leaning on the counter to watch him. "Peter's having way too much fun," he muttered. "Gives me a bad feeling."

"No kidding." Stiles dumped the tomatoes in a pan of olive oil and added a couple cloves of garlic.

Derek leaned in. "What're you making?" He sniffed then shook his head and snuffled, almost like a dog trying to get rid of a bad smell.

"Hey, no mocking the Stilinski Family Spaghetti!" Stiles said, adding onions to the pan. "You don't have a thing against garlic do you? Like vampires? Not that it makes much sense for vampires to hate garlic –"

"Sure it does," Derek interrupted mildly.

Stiles stared at him then waved his wooden spoon. "Do tell."

Derek lifted his head and gave him a look, like it should be obvious. "Well, if you had a sense of smell several times stronger than a canine's, you'd hate garlic, too." And oh. Okay. It _was_ kind of stupidly obvious. It startled a laugh out of Stiles and he could see one corner of Derek's mouth tilting up.

"Wait, does that mean you don't like garlic?" He looked down at the pan.

"No, it's fine," Derek said. "It was just stronger than I expected. It's raw garlic."

"Right, right. Learn something new every day." Stiles gave him a half-smile and Derek returned it, though his mind was clearly elsewhere.

Stiles added a few more ingredients and soon he had a thick sauce simmering. Derek was still leaning against the counter, lost in thought. "Here, wolfie; try this," he said, lifting the wooden spoon, a hand under it to catch drips. "Tell me if it needs more oregano."

Derek gave him a humoring sort of look and leaned in, taking a taste. Stiles' eyes were drawn to his mouth as a bit of sauce was smeared on his lower lip. As he watched Derek licked it away. Stiles cleared his throat. "Does it… need anything?"

"No," Derek replied, still leaning close. "It's perfect."

"Something smells… enticing." Derek and Stiles jumped apart, turning to the doorway. Landon stood there, leaning against it, his arms crossed and an amused smile playing on his face.

Stiles preened a little because hells yes his food smelled enticing. It was enticing as _shit_. Or well. Something like that. Enticing as… something really enticing. Not shit. He grinned but – Derek had a strange look on his face. Like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Stiles' smile dimmed slightly but he said to Landon, "It'll be ready in half an hour."

"Mmm. Can't wait." The man gave one last look between them then turned and headed back into the living room.

Stiles let out a slow breath. He wanted to say how damn weird that guy was, but he knew Landon could probably still hear him. Instead he turned to Derek and said, "Wanna help me with the garlic bread?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Okay so Stiles had to admit that dinner was actually… fun. The dining room in the Hale house was pretty big and Derek had managed to get a table to match. Landon's betas were opening up a little, joking around with Derek's pups. Stiles sat between Derek and Jackson, and even they were being polite and, hell, charming. There was one strange moment, though. Stiles had been telling a story about one of Scott's first full moons, and Jackson had been laughing. He'd leaned in and put his arm around the back of Stiles' chair in a friendly gesture that he never would have done otherwise. But then Jackson stopped laughing. It was so abrupt and the smile dropped so quickly from his face that Stiles stopped mid-sentence and stared at him. Before he could ask if he was alright, Jackson shifted so he was facing forward again, taking his arm back and putting his hands in his lap.

Stiles' mouth hung slack and he turned to ask Derek what happened. But Derek was holding Landon's gaze, and he could swear they were having some kind of silent conversation. Finally Allison said gently, "So, Stiles – Scott was chained to a radiator?" Stiles shook himself and resumed the story and the sudden and bewildering tension broke.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

As the evening wore on, people started to drift off to bed. Landon's betas had been setup in a spare room, with another one set aside for Landon and his mate, Lilah. Jackson and Lydia headed off first, and everyone just seemed to get really tired after that. Stiles found himself climbing the stairs with Derek and Scott. At the top, he turned to head off with Scott but stopped when Derek's hand gripped his elbow. He met Derek's eyes and – hell, whatever it was, Derek didn't want to say it out loud, he could tell. So he just nodded and followed Derek to his room. Derek shut the door behind him and… and started to get ready for bed.

Stiles fidgeted, watching as Derek tugged his shirt up and over his head, revealing an expanse of tanned skin and muscle. Stiles cleared his throat. "Um… did you…" He wasn't sure what to say; he was painfully aware of how easy it would be for Landon to overhear them. Derek turned and stared at him for a moment. Then he looked very significantly at the bed. Then met Stiles' eyes again. _Oh_. Okay. So he was sharing with Derek again tonight. He could handle that. It had been kind of nice, actually. Scott was a blanket hog and Jackson had bony elbows and Erica's feet were cold.

Stiles fumbled around to change. He got down to his boxers before he remembered he hadn't brought any pajamas with him. He thought about asking for some but – fuck it. He was tired and stressed and just wanted to get some sleep. He got into the bed, snuggling into the mess of blankets. Derek slid in behind him. He kept his distance for a long moment but then he was spooning up behind Stiles, his hand firm on Stiles' chest, over his heartbeat.

It was dark and quiet in the house. Stiles chanced the tiniest of whispers. "Why?"

Derek didn't reply.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

If Stiles had been hoping to wake up in his own bed with the past day and night having been one big, bad, awkward dream, then he was out of luck. He awoke with a heavy mass of muscle curled against his back, pressing him to the mattress, half on top of him. God, Derek was a freaking _heater_. Stiles groaned and shifted, trying to get out from under that stifling heat. Derek made a snuffling, sleepy sound and clutched him closer and Stiles would swear under oath that he in no way found it sweet or endearing. Especially since he had to pee.

He managed to extricate himself, shoving a pillow into Derek's arms instead. He felt sort of pawed-over. His boxers were hanging off his hips and his hair was a hot mess. He stumbled out into the hall, intending to hit the shower. He was met in the hall by Scott, looking adorably rumpled. Scott draped his arms around Stiles' shoulders from behind and Stiles huffed, amused.

"I need a shower but I'm too lazy," Scott complained.

"Sorry, can't help you there, buddy," Stiles said with a grin. "I have cleaned up your blood and stitched you up and chained you to things and lied to your mom – but I draw the line at bathing you."

Scott laughed against Stiles' neck. "Damn. Not even if I give the puppy dogs eyes?"

"I will forever hold a grudge against Allison for making you aware of that particular ability." Stiles got to the bathroom and shrugged his shoulders; Scott was still clinging to them. "Seriously, off the Stiles train. This is private shower time."

Scott drew back, wrinkling his nose. "TMI, dude."

"Anyone ever tell you you're a prude, Scotty-boy?" Stiles laughed, shutting the bathroom door firmly behind him. And locking it for good measure.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Breakfast was a lazy affair. Dishes were cooked one or two at a time and set out for whoever was wandering through the kitchen. Stiles found himself sitting at the island counter with a cup of coffee and an omelet of questionable origin. It smelled edible though, so he ate it slowly. It was entertaining to watch the wolves wander around. He was staring into his coffee cup, watching the dregs and considering getting another when one of Landon's betas plopped down onto the stool next to him.

Stiles turned and eyed him. He was the youngest of the three, not much older than Stiles. He had glittering black eyes under heavy brows and black hair that came down to his shoulders. His skin was smooth and golden and Stiles was momentarily flustered. "Um… which one were you again?" he asked. "Larry, Curly, or Moe?"

The wolf smiled and oh lordy, he had a nice smile. "Jonah," he provided and _of fucking course_, his voice was as smooth as the rest of him. "It was Stiles, right?"

Stiles nodded jerkily. "Yeah, yep, Stiles, that's me." He downed the rest of his coffee and put it down a little too hard.

Jonah eyed the mug then reached out, sliding his fingers over Stiles'. "I'll refill this for you," he said, voice warm. "How do you like it?"

Stiles' mouth fell open and he tried to remember exactly how he took his coffee because wow, Jonah was distracting. "Cream, two sugars," he heard Scott say behind him. "Or milk, whatever's in the fridge. Stiles isn't picky." Stiles shook his head and gave a weak smile because no, no he was not picky at _all_.

Jonah smiled again, all bright eyes and white teeth and oh god _dimples_, and headed over to the coffee pot. "Thank you," Stiles squeaked at Scott.

"I could smell you all the way upstairs," Scott replied. "Rein it in, dude."

"Sorry," Stiles replied, a little breathless. "Sorry. I'm fine, I swear."

Jonah sat back down next to him, sliding the mug to him. "Thanks," Stiles said with a breathy smile.

The beta graced him with another of those blinding smiles and turned to focus on a plate of bacon and eggs.

Stiles took a deep breath and turned back to Scott. Only it wasn't Scott – he'd moved on to sit with Allison. It was Jackson now. Jackson's eyes roamed over him for a moment before he sniffed lightly and said, "You stink like sex."

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Stiles sat on the porch swing, nestled between Allison and Lydia. He had a book open in his lap but he wasn't really paying all that much attention to it. Allison and Lydia were talking but he wasn't listening to them either. He was watching the group of wolves on the lawn. They'd gone out there with the intention of tossing around a football – Stiles wasn't sure where Derek had even _gotten_ a football – but it had degenerated into something clearly more puppy-like. Derek and Landon were mostly standing back and watching, but the rest of the betas, even Jackson, were running around and pouncing on each other, then darting off and laughing. They weaved and jumped and tried to get away from each other, catching clothes, ruffling hair. Scott tackled Jackson to the ground with a bright and sunny patented McCall grin and Jackson let out an honest-to-god laugh that didn't sound like he was forcing it in any way.

"He loves this." Stiles and Allison turned to look at Lydia, who was watching Jackson, idly twirling a lock of hair between her fingers. "He likes to pretend he doesn't," she continued, a small smile on her face. "But he loves all this puppy stuff."

Stiles had a sudden pang of longing, wishing he could join in the fun. He couldn't though. It looked harmless but he knew there was too much force behind the pounces, too much weight hitting bodies. He was human and this game would break him. He stood with a sigh and turned to head into the house. He was near the porch stairs when a hand grabbed his shirt and tugged, tossing him onto his back. The world spun and he was looking up into the bright glare of sunlight. After a moment his vision focused and he saw Jonah leaning over him, his hand pressed to Stiles' chest, grinning breathlessly. Stiles' stomach fluttered a little and he started to smile back. But then a rough hand was on his arm and pulling him up and it was Derek and _shit_, he didn't look amused. Once Stiles was on his feet Derek stepped in front of him and okay, sure it had surprised him but he wasn't hurt or anything, there was no need for Derek to go all Alpha on anyone.

But Derek wasn't saying anything, just watching Jonah with a look on his face like… like Jonah should know exactly why he'd taken his new favorite chew toy away. Like he'd done something wrong.

And from the look on Jonah's face, he knew _exactly_ what he did. After meeting Derek's eyes for a moment, he nodded and ducked his head, then turned back to the rowdy game.

Derek turned and caught Stiles' eye. He raised his eyebrows, a clear question, a 'what the hell was that about Hale?' but Derek just shook his head and swept past him, up the stairs and into the house.

Stiles turned to look at the girls, asking them the same silent question. Allison shrugged, but Lydia was looking… calculating.

Well that was never good.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

The next two days were a mess of fun puppy time, big meals, and the occasional weird, anti-social thing from Derek. The weirdest part was that it always seemed sort of aimed at Stiles. Or happening around Stiles. Or happening to whoever Stiles was interacting with. Jonah was a little less friendly now and Stiles could admit he was disappointed. Not that he was looking for some epic love affair or anything but a quickie make-out session in a spare room while everyone else was outside wasn't something he'd say no to, either. Not that he'd been thinking about it. Much.

On the fourth day, Lydia volunteered to play tour guide, and took almost everyone into town to see the sights. Stiles wasn't sure he wanted to possibly run into his dad while helping ferry around werewolves, since his dad was still sort of wary of the whole thing, so he opted to stay at Derek's. Derek stayed as well, since he still wasn't the most popular guy in town. Stiles was in the kitchen when they left, rolling out the pie crust for a cherry pie. He made _awesome_ cherry pie. It rivaled his spaghetti for Best Stilinski Dish Ever. And he didn't get to make it that often, since it wasn't very good for you and he didn't let his dad eat that kind of stuff except on special occasions.

He set the crust aside and went to work gathering the ingredients for the filling. He'd managed to find fresh cherries and he took those out of the fridge, pouring them into a bowl. They were dark, almost black, and he couldn't resist eating one. He grabbed the stem and tilted his head back, lowering it into his mouth. He sucked it off the stem and tilted his head down again, only to hear a smooth voice behind him say, "That looks like fun."

Stiles jumped and turned. Jonah was standing behind him, smiling slightly. Stiles glanced around, a little nervously. He smelled really good. "Hey… didn't you go on the Lydia Martin VIP tour?"

Jonah shook his head. "I wasn't really interested." He bit his lip and – okay, holy crap, he was totally checking Stiles out. It was completely unsubtle the way his eyes traveled slowly down and back up again. "I figured I'd have more fun here."

Stiles gave a completely ridiculous, choked little laugh, face turning beet red. "Ha, aha, well all I'm doing is cooking, I don't know how entertaining I'll be." He was painfully aware that they were basically alone in the house if you didn't count Derek, and he hadn't seen Derek since the cars had driven off, so he figured he could safely consider him out of the picture for the moment.

"I'm sure we can think of something to keep us occupied." Jonah leaned forward, pressing his body against Stiles' and pressing Stiles back against the counter. He reached behind Stiles and grabbed a cherry from the bowl. He put it between his teeth and yanked the stem out, then rolled it back on his tongue and chewed. Stiles gaped at him. He'd never thought something as simple as eating could be so… hot. Then Jonah was leaning forward again and this time he pressed the cherry to Stiles' bottom lip.

Stiles met Jonah's eyes and curled his tongue around it, pulling the cherry between his lips. He tugged it off the stem and ate it, face heating up and his pulse fluttering. Jonah wasn't much taller than him and he was muscular, but not actually that much broader than Stiles. He ran hot though, like all wolves. Jonah's dark eyes lowered to Stiles' mouth, and even he couldn't be surprised when the wolf leaned in and pressed his lips to Stiles'.

Stiles made an embarrassing sound and his hands flailed for a moment before landing on Jonah's shoulders. His incredibly firm shoulders. Stiles leaned into the kiss and man, this weird-ass week was turning out _awesome_. He slid his hands up to wrap his arms around Jonah's neck and was even considering hopping up on the counter, though that seemed a little slutty for a first kiss. He was actually about to do it, propriety be damned, when he heard a deep, guttural growl. Jonah jumped back from Stiles as if scalded, eyes flying to the doorway. Stiles looked that way too, a little dazed. Derek was standing there, eyes blazing red, hands clenched into fists. Jonah looked – Stiles stared at him. He looked pants-shittingly terrified. Stiles looked back at Derek, confused and more than a little upset.

"I – I'm sorry," Jonah said and practically ran for the door, darting outside.

Stiles stalked over to Derek, hands on his hips. "What the hell is your problem?" he demanded. "Were we breaking some stupid werewolf etiquette or something? We weren't doing anything wrong!"

Derek glared right back at him. "You can't just _do_ things like that, Stiles," he said. "You don't know him; you don't know his Alpha or his pack. We still don't know what their intentions are."

"It was just a kiss!" Stiles replied, even though Derek maybe had a point. Sort of a point. Something in the general vicinity of a point. "It didn't mean anything! He's just nice and cute and he wanted to kiss me and I gotta tell you Derek, the pool of people lining up to taste this rainbow is pretty damn small. At the moment there's only one. And he's probably decided he hates rainbows now."

Derek's expression shifted a little. "Wait… you're the rainbow, right?"

Stiles sighed harshly. "Don't change the subject. You just scared the fur off a perfectly nice beta, and chased off the second person EVER to want a ride on the Stilinski Express. And the first one was on a dare."

"So first you're a rainbow, and now you're a train?" Derek was fucking _laughing_ at him, that asshole.

"Screw you," Stiles said, and stormed off. He locked himself in a spare room and refused to come out until Lydia came up and banged on the door, demanding pie.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Dinner that evening was awkward to say the least. Most of the group was fine and happy, talking about the town and the fun they'd had. Jonah was silent, poking at his food and keeping his head down, like he was in trouble. Derek was closed off and clearly upset. Landon had obviously been told about the incident and was quiet the entire meal. He kept watching Derek and the weird thing was, he didn't look upset. His expression was sympathetic, and sometimes even… pitying? Stiles didn't get it, but he didn't want to either. He was still pissed at Derek for cockblocking him. Mouthblocking him. Whatever. Interrupting the first kiss Stiles had with someone who had actually _wanted_ to kiss him. It had been kind of a big deal and Derek had ruined it with his stupid Alpha bullshit.

After dinner Stiles stayed in the kitchen to help clean up. He'd slept in Derek's room every night since Landon's pack had arrived but he didn't want to tonight. He was too upset and letting Derek snuggle him like his own personal teddy bear would be too much like forgiving him. Eventually he had to head upstairs behind everyone else as they went to bed. He leaned against the wall and looked at Derek's door, not wanting to go in. He didn't feel like sleeping in the giant puppy pile, either. He headed down the hall, planning on finding an empty spare room to camp in. He went right down to the end but slowed when he heard voices.

Stiles pressed himself to the wall. It was Derek and Landon. They were in the room at the very end of the hall. He crept closer until their low voices began to form into words.

" – just concerned. Peter is an old friend of mine and I only want the best for his pack."

"I appreciate that but it's none of your business." Derek sounded grumpy and reluctant, like this conversation had in no way been his idea.

"Derek, you need to realize how serious this is," Landon continued, and as much as he strained, Stiles could hear nothing but genuine compassion in his tone. He really was worried about… whatever the hell this was about. "It reflects badly on you and your entire pack. You are very lucky it is me and mine here. Another Alpha would see your inability to control your mate as a sign of weakness and dissent in your ranks. They would see you as an easy conquest."

Stiles pressed a hand to his own mouth, trying to stifle any reaction to Landon's words. Mate? What the hell were they talking about? He didn't need Derek looking weak in the eyes of other packs; that put Scott in danger. And – hell, okay, he cared about this stupid pack with its stupidly adorable wolves and stupidly gorgeous human girls who he was pretty sure were actually Greek goddesses masquerading as mortals for fun. The point was what was bad for Derek was bad for all of them.

"And it's my mate's fault that your beta couldn't keep his hands to himself?" Derek asked, anger creeping into his voice.

Stiles was starting to get a bad feeling. A feeling like he was missing something glaringly obvious. He hated that feeling.

"I did apologize for Jonah's actions but your mate is hardly blameless. He reciprocated."

Stiles stomach dropped and he turned, heading back down the hall. He didn't hear Derek's reply, his mind too busy swirling and buzzing, putting the pieces together. He went to Derek's room and sat down on the bed, arms crossed.

Derek came in a few minutes later and stopped, looking at Stiles. He slowly shut the door and said, "Is something wrong?"

Stiles glared up at him. "You know, if you're going to lie about somebody, I think you should at least let that person know so they don't fuck everything up with their ignorance."

Derek had the grace to look away.

Stiles stood and walked towards him. "What puts you in danger puts this pack in danger. When you hide things from us all you're doing is making it so that we can't help you."

Derek sighed and walked around Stiles, further into the room. He turned to face him and said, "I never told Landon you were my mate. He just… assumed it. I don't know why. But I didn't correct him because having a mate makes you look stronger, more in control. I'm sorry; I didn't tell you because whatever made him think you were my mate was something, I don't know, inherent in you or something that had happened naturally. I didn't want to tell you to pretend to be my mate and him end up figuring it out because we tried too hard."

Stiles crossed his arms. "And it never occurred to you that I might screw it up? Of course it didn't," he answered himself. "It would never have occurred to you that one of those visiting betas might take an interest in me. Why would it? Why would anyone be interested in little human me? I don't know what's more insulting – the fact that you thought I was too stupid to be let in on your brilliant plan, or that fact that someone actually being interested in me never crossed your mind."

Derek's mouth tightened and he looked away but he didn't respond. Which, wow, that hurt. Stiles had at least expected a denial. He took Derek's silence to mean that yes, he'd actually been thinking those things. Stiles closed his mouth and looked away as well. He scuffed his foot on the floor and finally said reluctantly, "Does he still think we're mates?"

He could feel Derek watching him for a long moment but eventually he just said, "Yes."

"Do you really look stronger if you have a mate?"

Another pause. "Yes."

Stiles sighed. It was time for him to do what he did best – push his own feelings aside and take one for the team. "What made him think I was your mate?" He looked at Derek now.

Derek shrugged. "I have no idea," he said. "Maybe it was you talking back to him? Maybe he thought only the Alpha's mate would feel confident enough to do that? He didn't say what made him think that and I didn't ask; I didn't want him to get suspicious."

"That means I still have to sleep here, doesn't it?" Stiles' voice was flat.

Derek looked at the bed, frowning at it as if the sheets held all the answers. "I can… tell him we broke up," he said slowly. "If you really want me to. I can do that."

Stiles considered it – but no. "Are you kidding? And him think I'm even more of an asshole than he probably already thinks I am? No. I'll play along."

Derek looked at him again, and Stiles couldn't quite read the expression on his face. Like there was something he wanted to be feeling but he was holding it back. "Well, we need to reaffirm my claim on you," he said.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and how're we gonna do that?"

"We should… actually act like a couple," Derek said. "Around Landon and his pack," he added quickly.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. "And what would that entail?" he asked, voice icy.

Derek sighed harshly. "Don't you know how couples act? Look at Scott and Allison. Like them." He thought for a moment. "Only with more self-control."

"Does this mean I have to kiss you?" The question came out neutral because Stiles couldn't decide how he felt about the idea.

Derek's mouth tightened into a thin line. "Yes," he bit out and wow, Stiles might not have known quite what he thought about it, but Derek certainly did. He obviously hated the idea.

"Fine," Stiles snapped back. "Can I go to bed now?" Without waiting for an answer, he began to tug his clothes off, turning his back on Derek. In the bed, he kept his back to Derek, lying there stiffly. Derek never reached for him.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

In the morning, Stiles stumbled downstairs for coffee, feeling horrible. He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before and his body was stiff and achy. He watched the coffee maker through sleepy eyes and wondered how best to avoid Derek that day.

Of course, that was when he felt hands on his hips. Stiles stiffened momentarily, but that made his score muscles ache and he winced. He forced himself to relax and let his body be turned around to face Derek. The wolf was still shirtless and had clearly just gotten out of the shower. His skin was still damp and overly warm and his hair was wet and standing up in towel-dried spikes. Stiles glared at him and thought that no one should have the right to look so damn good when people were mad at them.

Derek leaned in and pressed his mouth to Stiles'. It took Stiles a moment to react because even though Derek had said it last night, he hadn't actually thought he'd _do it_. Stiles' hands went to Derek's chest and his fingers curled in, like they wanted to grab on to a shirt that wasn't there. In fact, he belatedly noticed that all Derek was wearing was a pair of tight black boxer briefs. Then Stiles stopped noticing anything because Derek drew Stiles' bottom lip into his mouth and _sucked_ on it.

Stiles made an embarrassing noise that he'd deny any knowledge of later and his knees actually went a little weak. That didn't matter because Derek took hold of Stiles' legs and lifted him up onto the counter. Stiles let his shaky arms wrap around Derek's neck and he thought about how this was nothing like with Jonah, how Jonah had felt young and sort of nice, and how Derek felt nothing like that at all. He felt firm and solid and definitely not young. There was no inexperience or hesitation in the press of his mouth and the slide of his tongue. Derek's hands were sliding up Stiles' back and Stiles' fingers dug into Derek shoulders and holy fuck, Derek actually made a sound, a whiny sort of thing, and pressed his hips forward in an involuntary sort of jerk.

"Hey I – oh." Derek yanked back from Stiles and turned to the doorway. Stiles blinked for a moment then followed Derek's gaze. Jackson was frozen there, an empty coffee mug in his hands, like he'd been coming in to refill it. His eyes darted from Derek to Stiles and back again, his mouth hanging slack. And for once, Stiles could see no malice in his eyes. He just looked stunned. Finally he closed his mouth with a snap and nodded and wow, was Jackson actually _blushing_? "Right," he said, nodding his head a little too quickly. "Right, sorry, I uh, I'm just gonna. Go. Now." He turned and fled back into the living room. Stiles could hear Lydia's soft voice, probably asking what was wrong.

Stiles swallowed and lowered his hands, avoiding looking at Derek. He'd assumed Derek had done that because one of the visiting wolves was in the room but… they were alone in the kitchen. And he had the feeling they had been the entire time. Which was… weird. And made him curious.

He shivered then because Derek had leaned in and pressed his nose to the hollow of Stiles' throat. He breathed Stiles in deeply for a long moment then pulled back, looking up at him. His eyes were red. Stiles wondered what that meant. He didn't get a chance to ask though, because Derek had turned and was heading back upstairs. Stiles let out a slow and shaky breath, then hopped down off the counter and went back to getting coffee.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

The temperature soared that day and Stiles stayed determinedly in the house. Derek had installed air conditioning after Stiles and the other humans had complained one too many times of the heat, so it was nice in the house. He'd also managed to convince Derek to install cable, so Stiles was spread across the couch flipping through the channels.

"Hey." Scott lifted Stiles' feet from the cushions and plopped down, then resettled them in his lap. "Anything good on?"

Stiles shrugged. "They're broadcasting the Eukanuba dog show." He raised an eyebrow at Scott. "Think I should record it for Derek? You know, give you guys some grooming tips?"

Scott pinched his calf and Stiles yelped a laughed. "Hey! I'm just saying, you wolfies wanna look your best right?"

"You're an ass," Scott said with a grin. "Come outside with us; it's boring in here all by yourself."

"_Nooooo_," Stiles said, shaking his head. "No thank you. After what happened last time? I think I'll stay away in case I cause any more diplomatic tension."

Scott frowned. "You mean with Jonah? Derek was just protecting – " he broke off.

Stiles gave a harsh sigh. "What the hell man, did everyone know about this stupid mate thing but me?"

Scott's eye widened. "You know?" he said in a hushed voice.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yes Scott, I know okay? Come on, you guys should have known I'd find out eventually. I _always_ find out."

Scott looked a little ashamed. "Deaton swore me to secrecy."

"Well he – what?" Stiles sat up, staring at Scott. "Deaton? What does he have to – wait, you guys talked about this with Deaton? When? How… ugh." He buried his face in his hands.

"Well I mean Deaton didn't _tell_ me exactly," Scott said and yes, there was clear shame in his voice. "I kind of overheard when Derek came to talk to him about it. But Deaton knew I heard and said I wasn't allowed to say anything to you. That it was Derek's place and no one else's."

Stiles groaned. Deaton was usually on _his_ side. "When the hell was this? A couple of days ago?" He raised his head.

Now Scott looked confused. "What? No, this was a couple of months ago."

Stiles frowned. "Um… are we talking about the same thing?"

Scott's eyes narrowed. "Why? Um… what are _you_ talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that Landon thought I was Derek's mate."

"Oh," Scott said and then his eyes went comically wide. "Oh!" He got up off the couch, dumping Stiles' feet back down on the cushions. "Oh shit! Forget I said anything, okay?!"

"WHAT? No, dammit Scott don't – fuck." Scott was gone, the screen door banging in his wake.

What the hell was going on with everybody?

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Stiles wanted to sit Derek down and force him to talk but that was nearly impossible to do with so many wolves milling around. He tried to avoid being around Derek because that kiss had left him… confused and turned on and angry and a whole mess of other emotions he just wasn't ready to deal with yet. But of course, because he was trying to avoid him, Derek was doing the _exact fucking opposite_. He followed Stiles from room to room, pressing close to him when he cooked, sitting next to him on the couch, standing behind him whenever he tried to talk to people. And he kept touching Stiles. Brushing his fingers through the hair Stiles was growing out, pressing a hand to the back of his neck, nosing at the tender skin behind his ear. There hadn't been another kiss yet, though. At least until the second to last day of Landon's visit.

Stiles was more relaxed than he'd been since his blow-up with Derek. He had been outside with Lilah and Lydia and Derek and Boyd when Erica and Isaac had come out of nowhere with a huge bag of water balloons. The first one hit Lydia on the back and burst all over her silk blouse. Everyone went still as she turned around, face unreadable. Stiles had a feeling he was about to burying a beta werewolf. But then Lydia had grinned and grabbed the water hose. What followed was the best water fight Stiles had ever been in. They seemed to naturally separate into teams, Stiles and Derek and Lilah and Lydia on one and Derek's betas on the other. Stiles really liked Lilah. She was quiet but once she opened up she had a brilliant smile that lit up her eyes and a great sense of humor. Also, she had an arm made for the major leagues. The water balloons got spilled onto the ground and soon it was a free-for-all, brightly colored globes flying everywhere and water raining down. As the balloons ran out it soon became Lydia with the hose versus everyone else.

"Stiles!" she cried brightly and he turned, only to get a jet of water to the face.

"No!" he yelled with a laugh and turned to run. Strong arms wrapped around him, turning him to face Lydia.

"Get him!" Derek said and wow, he was laughing and grinning and Stiles was so stunned by it that he didn't even try to get away.

The jet of water hit him and he squeaked and struggled a bit, but resigned himself to getting soaked. It was ice cold but it was so hot outside that it actually felt really awesome. The water stopped and Lydia grinned then turned the jet on Boyd.

Derek loosened his grip and Stiles turned, panting and smiling and looking up at him. Derek's eyes were crinkled up with the grin on his face and Stiles was struck by it again, by the color of Derek's eyes and the bright white of his teeth.

As Stiles stared, Derek's smile shifted, changed into something darker and more intimate. This time, he wasn't surprised when Derek kissed him.

Stiles vaguely heard the hose shut off and soft voices but he wasn't paying attention. How the hell could he? Derek was pressed against him, his arms wrapped around Stiles and he was kissing him slow and deep. His bare toes curled in the grass and he leaned in to it, draping his arms over Derek's shoulders.

Derek's hands slid over Stiles' back and his fingers curled, gripping Stiles' shirt. Stiles' fingers slid through Derek's hair and fuck, it was soft and thick and who could blame him if he gripped it, used the grip to ground himself because this was just for show, right?

He kept telling himself that right up until Derek made this _sound_, this broken and desperate sound that went right through Stiles, until he felt claws against his skin and saw a flash of red. Derek broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to Stiles' shoulder, panting.

Stiles was trembling a little and wasn't sure exactly what had just happened. All he knew was that the kiss had affected him – and Derek. It had affected Derek. Stiles swallowed and his voice was raw when he spoke. "I think we need to talk when this is all over."

Derek lifted his head and stepped back, out of Stiles' grasp. "No," he said and _fuck_, the look on his face made Stiles' insides clench, it was pain and want and a million other things. "We don't."

Stiles' mouth went slack. "What?" he said, genuinely surprised. This was not one-sided, there were clearly some sexy vibes going in both directions. "But-"

Derek turned and stalked off into the woods. Stiles glared after him. "Screw you too, Hale!" he yelled, and turned and headed back to the house, grumbling.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Landon and his pack left the next day. Seeing them off was a much different experience than welcoming them. Lilah gave everyone a rib-crushing hug and made them promise to keep in touch. When she got to Stiles, she kissed his cheek and squeezed him tight and told him he was her favorite. "I bet you say that to all the puny humans," he joked and she tweaked his nose.

Marcus and Alec exchanged bro-hugs with the guys, even a reluctant Jackson, and Erica slipped each of them her number. They clapped Stiles on the shoulder. Jonah came next, looking sort of forlorn. "I'm really sorry," he said

Stiles smiled at him. "Yeah. Me too."

Lilah and the betas got into the cars. Landon broke off from where he'd been talking to Peter. He took a few steps away from the house then turned and looked down the line at all of them. "I want you all to know," he said, voice warm, "that the Hale pack has our support. And our friendship. If you ever have need of our assistance, please don't hesitate to call." He smiled. "And we'll expect a visit to our compound this winter."

Scott moved closer to Stiles as they watched the SUVs pull away. "This was fun," Scott said, and Stiles could hear the surprise in his voice.

"Yeah, it was," Stiles agreed.

Everyone else was heading into the house, talking quietly. Scott watched the group for a long moment. "I don't… want this to end," he said softly, still watching even as Peter shut the door and left Scott and Stiles alone outside.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… this didn't feel like pretending, Stiles. It felt good. It felt _right_." Scott shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'm tired of fighting Derek and nobody trusting anybody. I'm done with it. I want this. I want us to be a family." He took a deep breath. "I want us to be a pack."

"Are you saying you want us to join Derek's pack?" Stiles asked carefully, stepping closer. "You know that would mean you'd be his beta, right?"

Scott nodded. "I know. And it's okay. I think he's really trying, you know? So we should try, too. I just don't know if any of the other will agree to it."

Stiles snorted. "Scott… they'll listen to you. If you say we join Derek's pack, then we join Derek's pack. All of us – even Jackson – we're in this, okay? We trust you."

Scott let out a relieved breath. "Okay. Cool." He grinned and Stiles grinned back. Then Scott said, "But you really need to talk to Derek."

Stiles groaned. "Fuck."

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Stiles went home that afternoon. It was summer, sure, but he had to check in once in a while. Besides, he needed some time to think. He needed to figure out what the fuck he was going to do about Derek. He said hello to his dad, made him dinner, then paced in his room for almost two hours, tossing a ball from hand to hand and thinking.

Derek was attracted to him. There was no denying it, not after that kiss in the clearing. That sound he'd made… that was not a sound of disgust. That was a good sound. So. There was that.

And of course Stiles was attracted to Derek because really, he'd have to be blind and deaf and have no sense of smell and also be straighter than Lydia's perfectly-drawn eyeliner to not be. And he also maybe sorta kinda liked him. He hadn't really let himself think about it before but now it had been shoved on him and he was forced to deal with it. He liked Derek. Derek might like him. This deserved exploring.

Stiles called Derek's cell. He heard the click as the call was picked up but no one spoke. Stiles sighed. "I want – I need to see you, okay sourwolf? Come to my house. You can even come in the window if you want." He hung up and threw himself onto his bed to wait.

Derek was there less than ten minutes later. He climbed in the window and Stiles sat up, not surprised in the least. "Okay," Stiles said, jumping to his feet. Derek sat on the window sill like he wanted to be able to escape at any moment. "Okay. Just – I'm gonna say something and I'm gonna expect a respond. You will never know a moment's peace again if you don't at least respond to this, okay? And _truthfully_. No lying. Alright." He took a deep breath. "I like you. A lot. I liked kissing you and I liked sleeping in your bed and I'm still pissed you kept stuff from me but I'm willing to consider forgiving you if it turns out you feel the same way. So I need you to tell me how you feel about me. Also you need to tell me what the hell you said to Deaton that Scott was apparently sworn to secrecy about." He stopped for breath and stared at Derek expectantly.

Derek stared back for a moment then raised an eyebrow. "Which one do you want me to answer first?"

Stiles glared at him. "You pick."

Derek clenched his jaw and shifted and Stiles had the sudden fear that he was just going to drop out of the window again. But he was standing up, shutting the window behind him. He stared out of it, hands on the sill. "I went to Deaton a few months ago for advice." His voice was flat.

"Advice on what?"

"How to tell if you've found your mate."

Stiles took a step back, then another, then sat down heavily on the bed. "Continue."

Derek's hands clenched on the window sill and Stiles heard the wood creak. "He said that it was instinctive; that the wolf would just know and that eventually the human side would catch on."

Stiles waited but Derek was silent again. Fuck, it was like pulling teeth. "Derek, am I gonna have to start guessing? Fine, I guess that your mate turned out to be a sparkly pink unicorn who –"

"_Stiles_," Derek growled and jeez, that tone wasn't helping Stiles focus. "It… it was you, okay?"

A rush of heat went through Stiles and he swallowed, trying to keep cool. "And you've known this for months?" he asked. Derek nodded. "And were you ever gonna say something?" Derek didn't reply. "I'll take that as a no. You were going to, what, pine for me from afar?"

Derek turned around now, looking stormy.

"If that's the case, then why pretend I was your mate?"

Derek looked away, crossing his arms. "I just… wanted a taste. To see what it would be like."

"To test-drive me," Stiles said dryly.

Derek frowned. "No, not – it wasn't like that, I just wanted –" He clenched his jaw. "I wanted you."

"Is that why you freaked out on Jonah?"

Derek growled, actually _growled_. "He put his hands on you."

Stiles laughed. "Oh, he put a lot more than that on me."

Derek was across the room in an instant, grabbing Stiles by the shirt front and pressing him against the door. "What did he do to you?" he demanded, voice hard.

"Nothing!" Stiles said. "Just... just what you saw, okay? He kissed me." He had a hard time keeping his voice steady with Derek pressed so firm against him.

"…and you let him." Derek released Stiles and stepped back.

"Was I not supposed to?" Stiles said. "Derek, you can't pretend not to give a shit about me and then expect to just... fucking wait around for you or something. I had no idea that you had any feelings for me outside of annoyance and aggravation, okay? How was I supposed to know –"

"You weren't," Derek said. "You weren't supposed to know."

"Well I do now," Stiles said. He pushed himself off the door and stepped closer. "I know. And I want it. Derek – I want _you_." His cheeks burned and he clenched his hands into fists, trying to fight the way he was trembling. "So what're you gonna do about it?"

Derek met his eyes, challenging. "Why do I have to do anything about it?"

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "If there is nothing here – if I have no reason to hope for something more – then I see no reason why I can't call up Landon and ask Jonah out on a date." Derek's eyes flared red and yes, it was a low blow, but considering the way he'd been lied to, Stiles felt it was fair play. "I want you Derek, but I'm not going to sit around and wait while you deal with your angst. I don't know what being an Alpha's mate means –"

"No, you don't," Derek interrupted.

Stiles continued, ignoring him, "- but I can guarantee that I want it. Whatever it is. Whatever it entails. I want it."

Derek just… deflated. "Stiles," he said, and his voice was raw and thick with emotion. "You don't know what you're asking for."

"I'm asking for _you_," Stiles said quietly.

Derek drew in a sharp breath and the next thing he knew, Stiles was pressed against the door again, this time with a rough mouth on his. "Fuck, finally," Stiles muttered against Derek's lips.

"Shut up," Derek growled. Stiles just laughed at him.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Stiles hadn't ever thought of being manhandled as something he'd enjoy; years of being knocked into lockers and shoved in gym had made him hate it. But Derek's big hands on him, moving him to the bed, stripping him of his clothes – definitely awesome.

"Fuck, let's even this up a little, huh?" Stiles sat up on the bed and got his hands under Derek's shirt, pulling it up and off him. He tossed it away and ran his hands up Derek's chest. "God. It's not even fair."

Derek growled and grabbed Stiles by the waist, hoisting him into his lap. Stiles sank his fingers into Derek hair as Derek sucked on his lower lip, worrying it between his teeth. Stiles curled his tongue over Derek and oh, now Derek was making the best sound, broken little noises like the one he'd made that day after the water fight. His hips were moving now too, and Stiles could feel Derek's cock, hard in his jeans. Stiles was down to his boxers now and so hard that the purple head of his dick was jutting out of the top of his waistband.

They rocked together, Stiles rubbing against Derek's abs, Derek pressing up against his ass. Derek nipped at Stiles' mouth and clenched his hands on Stiles' back, leaving marks that Stiles couldn't be bothered to worry about. Stiles was hot all over, his skin tight and flushed, and even though the friction on his cock wasn't the best, he knew it wasn't going to take much to get him off. "Can't wait till you fuck me," he said against Derek's mouth, without thinking.

Derek's hands tightened painfully on his back and he reared back a little, gasping. "Stiles – fuck, I'm gonna –"

"You gonna come?" Stiles panted with a breathless grin, rolling his hips, grinding his ass against Derek's cock.

Derek's eyes flashed. "No – I'm gonna turn." His voice was rough and tight. He was barely holding on.

And fuck, if _that_ wasn't the hottest thing that had ever happened in the history of ever. "It's okay," Stiles said, barely managing to get the words out. "It's okay Derek."

Derek pressed his face to Stiles' shoulder and let out a sound that was way more wolf than human. Stiles felt pinpricks on his back as Derek's claws pressed his skin. He gripped Derek's hair and could feel his ears elongating.

"_Fuck_," Stiles moaned. He was so damn close and Derek was panting against his skin, hot and ragged and he just needed a little more, a push.

Derek's hand gripped his ass hard and Stiles' mouth dropped open, his head falling back as he came, shooting in his boxers like he was 14 again.

Derek made another sound that was definitely going in Stiles' personal spank bank, a shredded, wrecked moan that turned into a growl as his hips jerked and _fuck_, was Derek coming in his jeans?

Stiles clung to Derek's neck, panting and shivering, until Derek laid him gently down onto the bed. Derek was still wolfed out, but he laid down next to Stiles, his arm draping heavily over his waist.

Stiles lay there for a few minutes, letting the aftershocks make his muscles twitch, letting his breathing and heart rate slow. When he looked over, Derek was human again. "I want this," Stiles said quietly.

Derek met his eyes. "Me, too."

Stiles gave him an exhausted smirk then turned and snuggled close to him, pressing his head up under Derek's chin. Derek wrapped his arm around Stiles, his fingers tracing patterns on Stiles' back.

He knew they still had things to talk about, things to work out. They had to talk about the whole "mate" thing and what that entailed. They had to start to figure out the merging of their packs. But Stiles decided it could wait till morning. For now, he wanted to just enjoy the fact that Derek was there with him. And maybe feel a little smug at just how gone for him this big bad wolf was.

Stiles was a _stud_.


End file.
